A Journey in Three Parts
by Tutu
Summary: The journey to the Fountain of Youth requires three impossible tasks that can deem a drinker worthy, and as long as the Pearl's captain and the king of pirates don't kill each other in the process, then hopefully they'll succeed. JE, WE
1. Chapter 1

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Prologue

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So this was the end, she thought, watching the flame's light flicker against the cave walls as they wrapped the rope tight around her neck. The great Pirate King would see her fate on land, trapped in a place that was neither of the living or the dead. Her captor's faces blurred in front of her, speaking in a language that wove itself softly through the air, a continual chant that seemed to freeze her muscles and voice, but not her fear.

She heard Gibbs wheezing somewhere in the background, the only indication of life in this God awful place – Jack went quiet hours ago. But she still felt him, solid and warm, at her back, the two of the them tied together with the rope that would eventually dangle their feet in the air. There was still so much to say, though, and she began to panic at all the loose ends that were strewn everywhere in her life. She still needed his forgiveness, to earn his trust, and to have him realize that she... that she had regrets.

But none of that seemed to matter now as she felt herself moving, Jack along with her. They were being pushed towards the fire, ropes being tied to the beams on the ceiling. They would burn, she realized, eyes wide. Their punishment for this adventure, and for the truth they discovered, would have them dancing above those flames. Was it worth it?, she no longer knew. But then she felt him, Jack's fingers slowly weaving with hers until he held on tightly.

At least they would burn together.

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It'll make more sense eventually, I swear! 


	2. Of Spanish Monks and Elizabeth POV

Disclaimer: I own nothing, obviously. Disney owns everything, obviously.

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed! I hope y'all can stay patient with me as I work out the rusty bits.

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Chapter 1

18 months ago...

Father Raul walked the silent steps to the cathedral, taking the same path he'd taken for so many years. Reaching the doors, he slipped inside, the moon providing its faint light through the thick windows. His torch cast its own light against the church walls, leading him towards the doors that would take him to his destination.

Father Raul was chosen by God many years ago to fulfill this task, a divine duty that sought to protect all the souls of mankind. Since he was a boy he guarded the sacred room, buried deep beneath the ancient cathedral and known to few. Never once did he look inside this room, and though he had spent his whole life protecting these two ancient doors, he still never gave a single thought to what was inside.

But that would change tonight.

For tonight, as Father Raul walked down the creaking steps, watching wood slowly turn to stone then dirt as he descended, he came upon a sight he had never seen before: the doors were open. Eyes wide, he approached this unfathomable situation, his breath short and heart beating faster and faster with every step. This was unthinkable! No one living besides himself knew of this location, and those who did know would never try to cross into that room, for fear of God striking them down where they stood.

Crossing himself, Father Raul was now before the doors, one wide open, and peered inside for the first time in his life. There was no one inside the room, but there in the middle stood a great pedestal of black stone that shone in the torch's light. The stale air stuck in his throat as one foot stepped inside, the other eventually following. He soon noticed a single piece of paper laying on the pedestal, a letter, addressed to... him!

Father Raul quickly grabbed the letter, astonished to see his name in clear, black ink written across the top. With his free hand he ripped it open, forgetting for a moment where he was. There was a single sentence written on the page, and what it said threw a wave of confusion into the elderly monk.

"My Dear Sir,

Remember this as the day that you _almost_ caught -

_Captain Jack Sparrow!_"

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2 months after that...

"The Fountain of Youth?"

"Aye."

"_The _Fountain of Youth?"

"Aye."

"Jack," she sighed, "you can't be serious."

"I am more often then not, love, though you people always seem surprised."

She rolled her eyes, but a slight smile began to grow at the corner of her lips. "Haven't you tried to find the Fountain of Youth before?"

Smirking, he leaned across her kitchen table. "Been keeping track of my travels, love?"

"Your failures, actually, and that one in particular one reached me three years ago," she retorted, smile widening to see his face grow indignant.

"Adventures do not require success, my liege, your Will could account for that," he said. "And besides, those charts of Sao Fang's were full of meaningless poppycock, lead no one anywhere but to trouble and death's shores, both of which I'd rather avoid right now."

"But you believe you have the correct charts now?" she asked, unable to keep the doubt from her voice.

"Lizzie, do you sincerely think that I would show up here, unannounced and uninvited, so close to your and young William's joyous reunion, without having acquired the correct map?"

Looking at him, she raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Jack. I think you would."

He scoffed and pulled out a tightly wound piece of paper. "Well, this time I didn't." And with that, he rolled out an extensive map, detailing the southern coast of Florida, a path lined out in red ink. At the top was a sentence, the letters fluid and beautiful, though it took Elizabeth a moment to read it.

_1. You must right a wrong at the top of the world_

"What does that mean?" she asked, pointing to it.

"Haven't the faintest clue, love, though I know of someone who might, although they'll be undoubtedly unhappy and unwilling to help us decipher such a code."

Elizabeth's head shot up. "Us?"

His smile quickly became sheepish. "Ah yes, hadn't I mention my proposal?"

Eyes narrowing, Elizabeth stood up and put her fists on her hips. "Jack-"

"Before you start on your tirade and refusal to join me, love," he interrupted, "let me remind you of this." He slowly stood up and looked her right in the eye. Sweeping his hands to the horizon outside her window, he said "Every ten years, a single day, Lizzie. One day out of four, five if you're lucky, before your life runs out and Turner continues on, eventually and inevitably forgetting about those few hours on this shore out of the millions of hours his immortal life will put him through."

She looked away from him and moved towards the horizon he pointed to. She felt the truth of his words ringing through her ears, pounding softly away to the rhythm of a beating heart that lay under her bed. She was already sick of feeling sorry for herself these past nine years, and damn Jack Sparrow for putting her deepest fears into words.

Walking around the table, he stood close to her, too close, his breath brushing against her hair. "But if you're immortal as he, Elizabeth, think of the possibilities then." His hand came to rest on her shoulder, heating her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. "With one sip from a single fountain, there's endless adventures, Lizzie, endless hours with him. You'd become the only constant in his life, the only thing that draws him back to this shore, and keeps his hands from turning into tentacles and his hair into kelp." Glancing up at him she glared at that last bit, though his face stayed solemn. "What say you, Lizzie?"

She sighed, leaning away from him and brushing off his hand. She had one more year before she fulfilled her duty to Will, one more year trapped in this small Tortugan household, her nearby child's grave tying her to land and keeping her from the sea. She had refused Jack's offers of adventure before, many times, in fact, always claiming a mourning heart and a guilt she could never quite place. He never gave up, though, and now he stood in front of her offering her the closest thing to a happy ending that she could have ever hoped for.

Looking back at the map, she asked "You're certain this map is accurate?"

His fingers crossing his heart, he swore "On me father's life, love. I stole it from a group of Spanish monks that have been guarding this piece of paper for hundreds of years." He frowned. "It was quite easy, actually. Perhaps I've dressed as a clergyman one too many times. There's no more challenge in stealing from the church anymore."

She laughed, missing the way his eyes lit up at the sound. Smiling once again, she said "I must be back here in a year, Jack."

"Of course love, or have you not heard that the Pearl is the fastest ship in the Caribbean?"

Turning away from him, she replied "I had not, Captain Sparrow. I had only heard it was the fastest in the world." She walked out of the kitchen then, towards her own room.

"Am I right then," he called after her, "in guessing that her royal highness has acquiesced to the acquirement of La Agua de Vida?"

His only response was a closed door and the sound of packing.

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They'll actually be doing something next time! 


	3. Of Dreams and Gibbs

Disclaimer: I own nothing, mouse owns all. Obviously.

AN: Wow, sorry this took so long to get out. I ended up re-writing this thing about three times before I kinda-sorta liked it. I also have to mention that I wrote this while I was writing about alcohol-induced blackouts, so I think it comes off a little weird.

And thank you to everyone who reviewed earlier!

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_She was running, footsteps pounding in her ears as they echoed off the stone walls. Her heart was speeding against her chest, with each beat reminding her of what she had done, of whom she had betrayed._

'Oh Jack...'

_The passage became darker and darker, the flame torches becoming fewer as she ran._

_They were coming. They were right behind her. She could feel their presence in the very walls around her, marching towards her in the dark. A few twists and turns and she came to a stop, the sounds of her pursuers fading._

_Leaning against the wall to catch her breath, she heard another sound, and felt something familiar, but dangerous. Looking into the dark she saw a shape, a woman, whose form slowly began show in a faint light._

_Calypso._

_The goddess she knew as Tia Dalma came forward, a black and wicked smile wide on her face. She came close to Elizabeth, her fingers trailing her up her bare arms to rough linen, before coming to rest on her shoulders._

_"Lizabeth," she whispered, leaning in, "he'll find you, girl, in da end, he will always find you." Calypso's hands crept up towards her neck, before circling her throat. "You try an' run, Lizzie," she began to squeeze, "but he be coming for you."_

_Spots began to form in front of her eyes, but Elizabeth could not struggle, and the last thing she saw was the goddess' pitch black eyes, laughing as she descended into nothing._

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Sitting up quickly, Elizabeth's hammock swayed dangerously towards the ship's posts, nearly throwing her off. Shaking herself awake, she took a deep breath as the dream began to fade, taking its message with it. Swinging her legs over, she swiftly put on her boots, trying to quell her trembling hands and hush her troubling thoughts.

This was the third nightmare in a row, and, coincidently, her third night at sea. With a sigh, she headed up towards the deck, where a moonless sky awaited her.

At the top of the stairs she noticed the lights still flickering in Jack's cabin, but, after hesitating, decided against entering. The last thing she needed was to see Jack in candlelight, or to give him the opportunity to offer her a more comfortable bed. Or rum. Or anything else that might make her regret come morning.

The ocean was wide and black tonight, empty and forever until it hit a star-studded horizon. Will was out there, somewhere, his sweet smile and strong, brave, young face welcoming the dead. She hadn't seen that face in well over eight years now, her memory of him fading around the edges. Some mornings she would wake and think he was a dream, a creation of her child's mind to keep her company in Port Royal. But then she'd hear the steady beating under her bed, his organ pumping away and keeping forgetfulness at bay.

It was always better when Jack visited, though. Not that Will was his favorite topic, far from it, but after he told her of all of his new adventures, they'd reminisce about the old ones, with him describing the "brave whelp's" sword fights with flourishes of hands and words. Those were the visits that kept her sane, especially after-

"Mrs. Turner."

Yelping, Elizabeth spun around to see Gibb's graying head nodding a greeting to her. "Mr. Gibbs, you scared me."

"Beg your pardon, Mrs. Turner," with a quick glance around the deck, he said "but it's a night of spirits. Best ye be awares."

"A night of spirits?" Looking around at the calm seas and cloudless skies, she raised an eyebrow. "How so, Mr. Gibbs?"

With one hand on the helm and another on a flask of rum, he began. "It's this venture of Jack's, make no mistake, Mrs. Turner. We be heading into black magic territory, mark me words."

"You mean the Fountain of Youth?"

"No, lass, I mean the reason we be headin' towards Cuba," he said.

"Jack's friend, you mean? The one who'll help with the map?"

"Aye," he took a swig. "And that man is Jack's "friend" as much as that sea witch was. And he'll be leadin' us to the Locker just as quick as she did."

She smiled. "Jack did say he'd be quite unwilling to help us."

"He'll be willing enough, I think, as long as Jack gives him-"

"The proper leverage?"

"Captain!" spluttering, Gibbs quickly placed both hands on the helm, eyes wide as he watched Jack walk up the steps.

"Aye, Mr. Gibbs. Hope you're not putting doubts into the Widow Turner's head?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

"'Course not, Captain, I was just remarkin' on the situation as a whole," he replied.

"I see, well, Lizzie, what exactly was this old sea goat telling you?" Jack asked, turning on her.

Hands on her hips, she lifted her chin. "I'm no widow, Jack."

Taking a step closer to her, smile wide, he said, "Ah, love, meant no harm. Never do, if truth be told. Paved with good intentions, and all that. And though I never mean to incur your anger, my liege, but back to my question, was Mr. Gibbs bein' kind enough to give you details of my source?"

"The fewest of details, Jack, which is more than what you've told me."

"All in good time, right love?" With one more step, he threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Mystery being an integral part of adventures such as these, it's best if I leave a few surprises for the end."

Shaking her head and smiling, she looked up to him, not realizing how close they were until she saw the slight crinkles around his eyes disguised by kohl, the smell of him making her dizzy. Locking eyes for a single moment, she knew that she only needed an inch to lean forward and-

"Captain!" came the voice of Gibbs, not five feet away.

Breaking away from her, Jack threw a murderous look at his first mate. "What is it?" he growled.

"Up ahead!" he pointed forward, where, miles off, lights flickered in the distance.

"Almost to our destination, Lizzie, best you prepare for a shore leave," said Jack, still too, too close.

Nodding, she walked quickly past him to her hammock, feelings of guilt and regret trailing her in her wake.

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Feedback is love. This is true. 


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